


love's the only medicine!

by herotoon



Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 03:41:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17573189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herotoon/pseuds/herotoon
Summary: Noir has a habit of ignoring anything thats not lethal. Ham gets to play doctor.





	love's the only medicine!

**Author's Note:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LgOcy0jr4wQ

Seeing tragedy firsthand every day will do a number on how one interacts with the world. It dulls your senses and warps reality into something faded and foggy. Once you’ve seen the worst of the worst, you start to downplay your own hurt. You forget your own tragedy because someone always has it worse than you, right?

Noir is no stranger to hurt, or to tragedy, and he is far beyond used to it.

He never really noticed the subtle ways his years of trauma affected him until he spent more time with the other spiders, the way they tended to minor issues instead of ignoring them until they grew to become unbearable. 

During a rather run of the mill fight, a stray bullet had clipped Noir’s right arm.  _ Nothing too serious _ , he thought. He just webbed the injury shut and kept fighting, resolving to deal with it later.

_ Red was the only color he was really familiar with- and there was so much of it. He only barely won that fight, as much as he hated to admit it. He was so tired, and getting dizzier by the second, but he managed to get out and wrap the wound in some old medical tape he found under his sink.  _

He was off his game that day. That’s it. It would be fine. Stitching his suit up one handed was the hardest part. It’d take a while to heal but he was used to it.

Miles’ dimension was always warmer than his own, even in the winter. Aunt May kept the house nice and cozy for them, and there was always something cooking on the stove or in the oven. 

With the fireplace going, it was a little  _ too  _ cozy, as a matter of fact. Miles and Gwen had already taken their jackets off and piled them up next to the couch while they played video games together. Peni never really seemed to mind the heat, something about her world constantly being too hot. Ham had, at some point, changed from his spider suit into a green sweater with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. 

(He looked nice without his mask on- a bit of blonde hair curling between his ears and eyes bluer than anything Noir had ever seen.)

Noir was starting to overheat, though. So he took off his trenchcoat, hanging it up on the coat rack by the door.

It actually didn’t help much. His turtleneck was pretty thick and his mask wasn’t exactly helping. Ham took notice of this. 

“Hey, I might have a t-shirt in your size in my bags if you want it. You’re lookin’ a little stuffy there.”

Noir sighed in relief. “Yeah, that’d be swell.”

Ham got up and led Noir back to the spare bedroom where Ham was staying. 

He quickly pulled a t-shirt from his bag. It was somehow Noir’s size, and had “I <3 NYC” printed across the front. The heart was in rainbow colors, which he liked, and the fabric was soft and stretchy.

“I won’t look. Scouts’ honor,” Ham said, sitting up on the bed and covering his face with his hands. 

“You were a scout?” He asked, taking his sweater off. He bit back a hiss of pain as the fabric tugged on his bandages.

“No, but I  _ did _ manage to get stuck on a campout with a bunch of ‘em once!”

Noir tugged his mask off, setting it down on his lap. His glasses had a locking mechanism so he could wear them while fighting, and it took a good while to get them out and ready for casual wear. “How’d you manage that one?”

Ham kept his hands over his face but flopped backwards onto the bed. “Eh, they caught me swingin’ by and I can’t say no to kids, so I ended up sticking around for a few hours. Til they started throwing flaming marshmallows and trying to take over the camp, that is.”

And Noir  _ laughed  _ at that. It was a grainy, soft sound that made Ham sit upright and take his hands from his face in surprise, turning to look at the man in question.

Noir had the t-shirt half on, and was facing away from Ham. 

“Oh, jeez, what  _ happened _ ?”

Noir flinched and looked back, tugging the sleeves further over his arms. “Vulture got in a lucky shot. ‘S fine.”

“It most certainly is  _ not _ fine! Lemme see,” Ham bounced across the bed and wiggled under Noir’s arm, sitting on his lap and getting a closer look at the bandages. A small amount of blood had soaked through, he was going to have to change them soon.

Ham unwrapped it and winced.

“Did you see a doctor for this?”

“I don’t need a doctor, it’s fine.”

“You stitched it up  _ by yourself?  _ How long ago was this?”

“I said it’s  _ fine _ . Why’re you makin’ a big deal about it? It happens all the time. I’ve had worse.”

Ham stuck a hand up, pressing it over Noir’s mouth, effectively silencing his protests. He looked up, finally taking in Noir’s face. His eyes were big and dark, and his nose had clearly been broken before. He had a scar running from above his eyebrow down to his cheek, thin and sharp. From a knife, clearly. Other, smaller scars littered his face, and his hair stuck up around the front where his mask had messed it up. 

Han slid his hand from over Noir’s mouth to his cheek, not missing the way Noir leaned into the touch, or the way his eyes fell shut for a moment.

“Humor me, alright? I wanna help.”

“...Two days ago.”

Ham smiled up at him and patted his cheek and Noir’s head felt fuzzy. 

“Was that so hard? C’mon, I found a first aid kit in May’s Peter’s old bathroom and May said it’s free for any of us to use. Let’s get that arm of yours fixed up proper, yeah? Get you back in nazi-punching shape.”

He got up and tugged Noir’s hand, pulling him along like a balloon into the bathroom. The sounds of chatter from the living room as they passed it brought him back to reality, little by little. 

By the time Ham had pulled him to sit on the edge of the bathtub, he was calmed down for the most part. 

“Alright,” Ham said, pouring some liquid onto a cotton pad. “This is gonna sting, but it’s gotta be done, alright?”

Noir nodded, but when Ham pressed the cloth to his arm it didn’t hurt much at all. Ham squeezed his hand, switching out the medicine for a clean bandage. 

“There ya go, detective. Fit as a fiddle!”

Noir’s look softened and he let out a sigh, smiling at Ham like he was the best thing in the world.

Everything Ham did, he did with an unprecedented amount of care. Noir noticed the way that even when he was insisting, Ham would constantly be looking at him, checking to make sure he was okay. 

“Thank you,” Noir said, taking Ham’s hands in his own. “It… It means a lot that you’d want to put in the effort for someone like me.”

After a good moment where he just stood there in awe, Ham cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck. “Geez, you’re a big softie at heart, aren’t ya? Too adorable for your own good.”

Noir felt his ears go hot. “Pardon?”

Ham either didn’t hear him or didn’t care, climbing onto his lap. “Well, just one thing left to do and we’re good to go!”

Before Noir could ask what that was, he felt Ham pull his sleeve back and press a kiss over the bandages. It left a fuzzy feeling in his stomach and a warm feeling in his arm.

“There,” Ham grinned, still holding the arm in his hands. “All better!”

“Yeah- yeah. Mhmm. Thanks, doc. I owe you one.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Ham smirked, tapping his temple. 

Noir was looking at him strangely, squinting and pursing his lips. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of big circle frame glasses, putting them on.

“Man, you just keep getting better and better, huh,” Ham mumbled, too quiet for Noir to hear.

He tilted his head and the tuft of hair that stuck up flopped to one side. Ham felt faint. There was no way this was real- he was too perfect to be true. 

“Are those hearts?” Noir asked. Ham blinked, coming back to himself.

He waved his arms above his head, shooing the sparkle-matter off. It dissolved and Ham laughed nervously, leaning on Noir’s chest. “No idea what you’re talking about. What’s a heart? Heh.”

Noir  _ smirked _ , which, in Ham’s opinion, ought to be illegal. “Right,” he said softly, running his hand through Ham’s hair. Ham immediately shut his eyes and melted into the touch, sighing against Noir’s shirt.

Noir continued playing with his hair, smiling to himself as hearts bubbled around the both of them.

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> please comment if you liked this!!! babey need validation


End file.
